Just as Interesting
by Lif61
Summary: Rowena finds a man in her hotel room, and that man just so happens to be Dean Winchester, hunter-recently-turned-demon. He didn't have much planned for their first meeting, but upon seeing her, he gets a few ideas.


**A/N: Written for a request on tumblr.**

 **WARNING: Rape/Non-con**

* * *

Rowena hadn't expected a man to be in her hotel room, but there he was, sitting in the black leather armchair nestled in the corner. It didn't escape her attention that he was rather attractive, but there was something about him that told her he was dangerous. He seemed relaxed, but his green eyes were alert.

Though her heart was beating rather quickly, Rowena closed the door, and set her purse down on the dark mahogany table against the wall, casually asking as she did so, "Can I help you?"

Already she was forming spells in her mind in case she needed to defend herself, but he hadn't moved yet.

"Are you Rowena MacLeod?" he asked in a deep voice.

"I might be," she responded, crossing her arms and glaring at him. "But last I checked, this is my room and I haven't invited you in. I don't even know who you are."

He flashed her a smile. "I'm Dean. Dean Winchester."

Rowena's heart skipped a beat.

She recognized that name alright. The man before her with the chiseled jawline and perfectly symmetrical features that made him look too beautiful to be in such a dangerous line of work was a hunter. And he was one of the best in the world.

Instantly, Rowena started muttering an incantation, one that would at least trap him until she could figure out how he'd found her, but before she could finish he was up out of his seat and across the room. He slammed her against the wall, placed a hand over her mouth, and something sharp was pressing against her neck. And of all things, his eyes had gone completely black. Her stomach quivered from fear.

"So you know who I am," he said. "Maybe that'll give you some incentive to stay quiet."

Thoughts whirled in Rowena's head, plans of escape, confusion as to why a hunter was now a demon, how he'd found her… And she began to wonder if she'd be able to perform a spell before he slit her throat. She figured she couldn't, and he must've thought the same thing because he took his hand away from her mouth, placing it in her hair instead and drawing her head back slightly.

"Why are you a demon?" she asked him, truly curious.

He laughed darkly, his eyes flicking back to that startling green. "That's uh, that's a long story."

"How'd you find out about me?"

"Look, I'm the one with the knife to your throat," he growled out, "so if anything, I should be the one asking the questions."

Rowena smiled at Dean. "Then ask away, dear."

He grumbled something under his breath, and then to her surprise his cheeks turned a little pink. He stepped back from her, and replaced the knife in a sheathe he had hidden in the back of his jeans.

He looked her over, his tongue coming out to slowly lick his upper lip, as if he liked what he saw.

Suddenly feeling very uncomfortable, Rowena asked him a taunting question to try and take control of the situation: "Do you not actually have a plan?"

His still didn't draw his gaze from her, and his pupils were growing larger, his eyes darkening with what she recognized as lust.

"I'm starting to get one," he answered.

"Does it by any chance involve you getting out of my room?"

He flashed her a wicked grin. "Eventually, but it'll be a while before then."

Rowena didn't like what his words implied. Well, maybe she did. Just a bit. He was extremely attractive; tall, clearly muscular. Under different circumstances Rowena really wouldn't mind getting into bed with someone who was so handsome. But he'd shown up uninvited, and he'd had a knife to her throat just a few seconds ago. She liked to think after centuries of being alive that a situation like this wouldn't be this confusing, but she found that she was both terrified and slightly aroused at the same time, heat and cold battling for control in her body.

Dean then added, "But you'll be too dead to care."

He got close to her again, putting one hand up against the wall by her head, and Rowena suddenly started having a hard time breathing.

"Here's how this is gonna go," he began, "you're going to allow me to do what I want with you, and maybe I'll let you live."

"Maybe?" she spat. "Then what's even the point?"

He leaned over, and placed some of her hair behind her ear. "The point," he told her, "is that I'll get to have some fun. And who knows, maybe you'll even enjoy yourself."

"Maybe if I actually consented I would."

"And do you?"

"Not in your dreams, you flannel-wearing oaf."

His lips turned up in a smile, but his eyes remained dark and lustful. "Gotta say, never done this before, but hey, there's a first time for everything."

"Oh, you poor, wee poppet," Rowena said, feigning sympathy, "haven't lost your virginity yet."

Dean growled at her, and placed a finger against her lips. "Stop."

She smirked, and another insult came to mind, just waiting to be said. How to get him to remove his finger so she could say it? An idea formed, one that might get her into more trouble with him, but she figured it was worth a shot. He was going to have his way with her no matter what she did. And Rowena hated that part of her was excited at the prospect.

Steeling herself, she opened her mouth and licked his finger. A growl emanated from Dean's chest and he brushed his finger against her lips to her cheek. She was about to form the words to continue insulting him, but then he suddenly grabbed her jaw in a bruising grip and brought his mouth to hers. His lips - which were fuller than anyone's lips had the right to be - were soft and warm against hers, and Rowena found herself kissing back. When her thoughts caught up with her actions she came to the decision that she'd cooperate with him; maybe it'd give her a better chance at survival.

Dean's mouth was already open and he was sucking at her forcefully, as if he could inhale her. He placed a hand around her throat and squeezed lightly. It was like he was warning her that he could do much worse if he wanted to. And she knew he could. So Rowena didn't fight him as he kissed her and ran his hands over her body with a curious and firm grip. His touch was making heat pool in between her legs.

He pulled away, and they were both gasping for air. Rowena had a harder time regulating her breathing than he did because he had grabbed one of her legs and pulled it up against him, and his other hand had gone under her dress. Despite the way he surely pressed bruises into her thigh, he was gentle with feeling her sex, and the contrast made Rowena's heart flutter wildly and made her stomach curl in on itself with delight. She leaned her head back, a quiet moan leaving her. Dean took advantage of her neck being exposed, and swooped down to press his mouth to her pale skin. At first he used just his lips and his tongue, and then he got his teeth involved, nipping at her, seemingly with the intention of leaving marks. It sent sparks through her already hungry body and she arched herself into him.

A whine was pulled past her lips against her will when he took his hand out from between her legs. He grasped at her right hip, pulling her flush against him, and she could feel that he was hard. He began to move his hips against her, a groan leaving him as he did so. His movements were slow, but forceful, and it stoked the fire in her.

And then, before she could really comprehend what was happening, he was pulled back from her and he was tearing his clothes off, tossing them aside, the knife clattering as it dropped to the floor, and then he did the same for her clothes. Fear from being exposed so suddenly shot its way down her spine and she quivered.

It didn't escape Rowena's attention that Dean had an anti-possession symbol tattooed on his chest in black ink, and she found it rather ironic.

Instinctively, she struggled against him as he leaned down and started sucking on one of her nipples, his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh. Dean glanced up at her and her breath caught in her throat when she saw that his eyes were once again as black and empty as the void. It was a warning, a threat. So Rowena inhaled deeply, and on the exhale she focused on relaxing her body. His gaze didn't leave her until she became malleable against him. And then he closed his eyes blissfully as he went back to enjoying her body.

Rowena swallowed roughly, her throat beginning to ache, and she felt the warm pinprick of tears at the corners of her eyes. No, she couldn't cry. Not in front of him. Not because of him. She wouldn't. She wouldn't!

But she did, just a single tear, when one of his fingers breached her entrance. His mouth began traveling lower and lower as he worked his finger in and out of her. He added a second finger just as his tongue found her clitoris. Rowena nearly collapsed, and she gripped his broad shoulders to brace herself. He buried his fingers deeply in her and then crooked them in a beckoning motion. And all the while he was merciless with his mouth. A soft cry escaped her as pleasure raced through her body, and she unintentionally widened her legs for him. She felt him smile against her.

He brought her to the brink of her climax, her body shuddering and sweating from it, and then he stopped. Rowena growled at him, and, with her mind clouded from arousal, she almost took charge herself. But then it was like someone stabbed her in the chest as she came back to herself. She hadn't truly consented to this.

Dean rose, taking her into his arms, wrapping her legs around his hips, and she felt his erection, hot and hard against her. Her muscles contracted eagerly, betraying her, craving to have him inside of her. And he soon was. He was stretching and filling her, not exactly being gentle about it, and he was big. She gasped with each thrust, and each time he went a little deeper, until he was fully sheathed in her. He stilled, a deep groan leaving him, and he rested his forehead against hers. She was actually surprised that he paused, that he hadn't just gotten right to it, but she supposed he wanted to revel in the moment. While her center burned with pleasure and desire her stomach was turning over on itself, somehow sensing that this shouldn't be happening. Rowena held onto him, digging her nails in, hoping that some touch, any touch, would help keep her grounded through this.

"God, you feel good," he commented, his voice low and rough with need. "So good."

And then he began to thrust. His movements were slow, but very hard, and it hurt. He fully buried himself in her each time, and Rowena wished she could push him away from her. She especially felt that when his pace began to quicken. The wall was hard against her back, and she was getting slammed into it with each relentless thrust. She hated and loved this. It felt so good, the pleasure burning through her, but it hurt as well. Already she was getting sore, the pain even stabbing up into her spine every once in a while. She cried out as he took her, and he was digging his nails into her skin as he pulled her against him, trying to go deeper each time. It was like he needed her, or needed to stake his claim. Delighted, possessive growls were leaving him, and he brought his mouth to hers again, his tongue making its way past her lips and reaching deep.

The hunter-turned-demon fucked her for all she was worth, and then some. She was a heaving, sweaty mess against him, unable to do anything as he had his way with her. Her toes curled and she accidently bit his tongue when she climaxed, her walls contracting tightly around him, making him seem even larger inside of her. Her heart pounded quickly, and not just from the way pleasure was pounding through her and claiming her just as surely as he was. It was from fear that she would receive some sort of punishment.

That might've been what happened next. She couldn't be sure. Either that, or her accidently biting his tongue just really did it for him. He changed the way he held her and brought her over to the bed, not leaving her body as he did so, and he placed her down on it, before pounding away at her at an even faster pace. He pulled back from her and held her legs open, and Rowena's hands went to the sheets, which she held in a white-knuckled grip. She shuddered and twitched as he took her, as her body refused to come down from its high. She couldn't even think properly. There was just Dean and his overwhelming presence over her, against her, inside her.

Her back was arching, all her muscles taut, and then finally her climax ended. She could feel that she was even more wet in between her legs now and it made Dean start swearing.

He placed her feet over his shoulders and then leaned over her, bracing himself with his forearms on either side of her. And he stared at her, his gaze hot and heavy, and the shadow of his darkness lay beneath that. But it wasn't an evil, impending doom kind of darkness. It was almost playful, deadly, like a predator who wore its prey down right before delivering the killing blow.

Rowena tilted her head away, unable to hold his gaze, and he forcefully thrust his hips against her, and then he kept pushing. Pain pulsed through her and she whimpered.

"Look at me," he ordered.

Her lips trembling, Rowena turned her head and brought her gaze back to his.

"You're much more cooperative than I would've expected," he told her gruffly. "Not sure whether I'm liking that or not."

At that Rowena had the sudden urge to spit in his face, and maybe her intelligence took a temporary leave of absence because she did just that. Dean's eyes went black again, and Rowena knew she'd made a mistake. He grabbed her wrists in a tight grip that would surely leave bruises in the shape of his hands, and he slammed them up above her head. And he held her down as he went at her, not stopping for anything. He started kissing her again, but this time he was so rough that her lips swelled up and her bottom lip started bleeding. After licking the wound and making it sting, he brought his mouth lower and started gnawing at her jaw.

Rowena came undone beneath him a few more times, and he never let up. Her body was aching and pleasure seemed to have seared itself into her nerves where it would remain, even after he was finished with her. Rowena wanted to scream just because she couldn't handle it anymore. All of this was much too overwhelming.

Dean's pace grew erratic, wild, and a primal growl left him. And then he was emptying into her, the feeling of his hot cum inside of her making her exhausted body climax one more time. Rowena couldn't even breathe as the pleasure took her once more, and she squeezed her eyes shut, white light seeming to burst through her. He was throbbing within her, and her body seemed to beg him for more; more of him, more of his seed. He was moaning loudly, nearly shouting, and his grip tightened till she swore he was going to break her wrists.

Finally, he pulled out of her, and of all things, Rowena felt empty without him. He let her go, and with shaking limbs she pushed herself farther up the bed, away from him. Rowena tried to catch her breath, her chest heaving, as she watched him go over to his discarded clothes and pick up his knife. He unsheathed it and studied the gleaming metal, and then he glanced at her. Oh god, after all that he was going to kill her.

Rowena hated herself as she started crying. Dean had made her weak and helpless, completely at his mercy. She was too tired to think properly and wouldn't trust that she could do a spell without accidently blowing up the entire building and killing everyone, herself included. Granted, she didn't care so much about everyone else dying, especially if Dean was among them, but she really didn't want to be amongst the dead.

She hated this, hated that she was crying, that she was weak, that she couldn't do anything as he approached her. In fact, she began to hate herself. Maybe he should kill her. Maybe she deserved it for being so pathetic.

But then, his eyes went back to their normal color and there was sympathy there. He re-sheathed the knife and placed it down on the small table behind him.

She started moving away as he came towards her, getting on the bed.

"No, no, no. Sh… It's okay," he soothed. "I'm not gonna hurt ya."

Rowena wasn't sure she believed him until he gently stroked a hand through her hair that was damp with sweat. She frowned at him in confusion.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "I am."

She wanted to believe him, but she couldn't forget that he was a demon.

He lay down beside her and pulled her against him with gentle hands, spooning her worn body.

He pressed a kiss against her head and then murmured again, "I'm sorry."

Rowena continued to cry as he stroked a hand through her hair and spoke soothing words to her in a soft voice. He was so different from the man that had taken her, and it made her question how much of his humanity was left, if it was even possible for him to be this human. Her tears stopped and with them, her hatred for herself, It ebbed until she almost forgot about it completely.

"You see," he began, as if he was about to explain something to her, "I haven't been a demon that long. Killing without feeling guilty is fun, but what I just did to you, I don't know. Still felt wrong."

"That's because it is," she told him. She'd meant to imbue her tone with ice, but she only sounded tired.

He sighed. "I know. I'm sorry."

They lay in silence for a minute or two, Dean's hands now feeling over her with care, his fingers just grazing her where dark bruises were starting to form.

"How did you find me?" she asked eventually, still curious, wanting to know if some of the spells she used to stay under the radar had failed her.

"Crowley."

"Who?"

"The King of Hell. We've been together for a few weeks, and I got him really drunk recently. He started talking." Dean chuckled. "He actually got pretty emotional. It was weird. But anyway, he mentioned a witch named Rowena. And I wanted to see what kind of person could make the King of Hell so upset. It wasn't easy finding you. I had to do a lot of digging, left a few bodies along the way. I'm definitely thinking it was worth it though. You're… interesting."

"That's all I get? Interesting?"

"What more do you want? I decided not to kill you. Isn't that enough?"

Rowena smiled as she realized that was true. And maybe, just maybe, if they ever ran into each other again, they could try this over, without threats, with her wanting it wholeheartedly. And knowing he could be so gentle afterwards made her think that it really would be a good idea.

"Well, Dean Winchester," she breathed, "I think you're just as interesting."


End file.
